Cherub: US War on Narcotics
by Mortifus
Summary: Working Title Original characters with possible cameos. RR.


To: Matthew Dresden, Brendan Maclean, Nathalia Forissier, Jack Smyth, Alice Chambers, Oedipus Rex, John Nickleson, Jordan Peralta, Reece Brownell

From: (Samuel Vine) HisgraceofanhkCherub.MI5.gov.uk/Secure

Subject: Agents Mix-up.

Hey guys, It seems that when the brain boxes at mission control were busy picking agents they stuffed up and have allocated too many. I know that for some of you haven't had an active mission for a while, so I'm organising a security check with the Mission controller. He's the new guy, Alex Caplin, be nice. Anyway, basically Alex has given me free run of this little exercise, We'll all be meeting at office room 120 and briefing will go from there. Unfortunately the mission is of paramount importance, and if I'm going to choose my team of agents I need (and Alex agrees) to know how they operate. So think of this as a selections process, Those that perform well will be taken on the mission, those that don't will be reassigned to another less important mission to make up a shortfall.

Briefing is at 1630 hours.

Sam.

Sam got up from the computer and looked at the clock on his bedroom wall. Twelve thirty. He had roughly four hours before he was needed in the briefing room. Going over to his chest of drawers he plucked his cap off the top, put it on brim first, looked in the mirror and giving himself the once over with the comb. He had a short haircut, dark brown hair and his eyes were a hazel colour. It could be easily said that he was somewhat hispanic in his appearance, and considering his real name had been "Samuel Sarracini" before joining Cherub, that would be nearly accurate. Slipping on his black shirt and turning the light off, he closed the door and headed downstairs. His ultimate goal was the cafeteria, but fist he had to cut a swathe through the crowd of milling people, bustling to and from rooms getting their school work for the next period. He managed to just squeeze into the elevator before the door closed. It was an uncomfortable thirty seconds.

When he finally reached the cafeteria (He'd been waylaid by Mr Large shouting at him for accidentally walking through a fitness exercise on the field) He joined the line and managed to swipe a curried egg sandwich and some salad before they all got taken.

"HEY! SAM! OVER HERE!" someone shouted, Sam whirled around to see Katie, his girlfiend sitting with his best mate Mark and his younger brother Steve. They went back ages, Mark and Steve had been recruited by Sam just after Sam had finished basic, his first mission. They'd had a strong bond of friendship ever since.

"I hear you've been pulled from the mission" said Steve. Sam's jaw dropped, "What?" he yelped starting to panic, before he realised that all three of them were looking at him. It was a wind up.

"Oh ha ha." he grumbled putting down his tray and scruffing up Steve's hair. "Hey babe", he said as an afterthought, leaning over and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. Mark wolf whistled.

"Mark shut up" Katie said embarrassed. Turning back to mark he said "So when are you allowed back on active duty?" Sam asked.

"Another week, Man, I can't believe that Large still holds the grudge against me for putting the tomato sauce under one of the instructors bogs. He's been making my exercises a living hell." They all laughed remembering the events of a few years prior, it was one of the most well known pranks played on large. Large had spent the rest of the day with red stains on the back of his instructors pants it was the best anyone had ever done to him, apart from the legend Lauren Adam's belting him around the back with a spade, that was just class.

Sam smirked.

"Maybe you'll get a really good mission and you'll get your black shirt, _finally_" piped in Katie said twisting the dagger

"Yeah and maybe large will get an afro" Steve joined in.

"Oh, so laugh at my expense now?"

"You better believe it"

After finishing his lunch, having a bit of private time with Katie at the dojo and running a few laps on the track, it was quarter past four and time to head up to the Mission Control offices.

Matt had finished tapping out a response to Sam's email.

To: Samuel Vine

From: Matt Dresden

Subject: Re: Agents Mix-up

Sam,

Nice to hear from you again dude.  
I'm happy to try out this mission: if this is an airport one can I create a distraction to slip the other agents through? I'm think of this: starting a massive punch up, and in the confusion, the rest of the guys get through. I'll probably have to spend a night in a cell, but hey, I'll always be ready to take one for the team

Cheers, Matt

P.S I want a business class seat this time.

He rolled his neck back and checked his watch. 12:30. He walked over to his mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and a six-pack of susi. He couldn't be stuffed going to the cafeteria to eat lunch-he'd been run ragged in Physics and Economics this morning. His brain was dead, and thankfully it was raining just enough to make a nice muddy topsoil outside. That always cheered him up.

He finished his susi, and put on his moutain biking gear. He had four hours before the briefing, and he certainly wasn't going to waste it siting inside doing the dreaded _Physics_.

He walked to the elevator, pressing the B2 button in the motor pool complex. There's quite a workshop down there, where Cherubs learn about cars and where a lot of kids kept their bikes. He was particularly proud of his. He'd built it himself: a specialized frame, with Kona shocks, DirtMate tires and Shimano gears and disk brakes. It had cost him a couple of thousand: but it was worth it-he had the bike exactly how he liked it, with a cogset he'd made himself, which gave him a ton more gears than regular moutain bikes. He was wearing a loose cycling jersey and a pair of moutain bike shorts, which were essentially expensive parachute shorts. He grabbed his bike, and did a quick check to make sure he didn't have a flat, and rode off letting the mud spray up on his newly won Navy shirt.

By the time he got back to his room someone was there. Matt was instantly on alert: he had learned that through his time at primary school.

'Hey Matt.'

He instantly tensed. It was Jess Mitchum, the local shrink.

'Hey. How, uh, are you'

'I'm just fine. You okay?'

Matt sort of cringed, but as always he tried to be honest with her, it was the point of their sessions, so why should be any different outside the psyche lounge?

'Not really. I keep having dreams'

'About?'

'Who do you think!' Matt exclaimed, in a more tense tone than he should have allowed. _Never let them sense your emotions. It's what they thrive on. Give them nothing, and they'll give it up_. His mother's words. He calmed down. 'Akmed, of course. He saved me, and I let him die.'

There was a pause before she said calmly and methodically,

'Matt we've been through this, you saved Sam. You thought that Akmed was okay! You had one degree of vision Matt. No one in the world, not even those people at Coroando you seem to idolise could have done anything.' Jess exclaimed.

'I focused on the target to long. If I'd sighted out...'

'If if, bloody if!' That's all you ever seem to say.! A lot of our therapy means coming to terms with what you do or fail to do! The human mind is a complex thing, sometimes we just choke up!."

…

Brendan had woken up at 12:30 to a beeping sound coming from his computer. He knew he should check it but he was so tired having just got back from his first mission the night before. After lying in bed for 15 minutes trying to find the energy to get up he eventually did and found that he had 2 new emails. 1 was from his girlfriend who was away in on a long mission in Australia. The other was from someone called "Sam Vine" telling him about a security check that was to happen soon and that the briefing was at 1630 hours.

Brendan replied and said that he would be there. He was pleased, if exhausted, that he had another mission. He got dressed in his grey shirt and military pants and went downstairs. He had slept in so late that it was now lunch time and his stomach rumbled. He got his lunch and sat down next to his best friend Martin Johnston.

"Yo wassup dawg" said Martin.  
Brendan laughed at his friend faking the "gangsta" style of speech and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.

"Nothing much, but I've got myself another mission, I was half asleep when I read it, but I think it's just some lame security check."

"At least you've got a mission"

After eating lunch Brendan went to his English and classics classes until 4:30. His head swirling with Latin phrasing he was relieved when he finally headed off to the mission briefing.

…

Nathalia gave out a little huff and set her book on **Nietzsche** down on the table. Hopping off the bed she managed to drag her tired body to the desk where her personal laptop lay.

_'Damned ringing disrupting my reading time,'_ she inwardly fumed, running a hand through her black hair, which was cut into layers just recently.

Her finger ran over the keyboard, her reflection in the computer's screen belied a toned body and a grey shirt, while her hand on the mouse and in a matter of seconds she had typed her response to Sam. She's seen him a few times around campus and he was supposedly some real hero just because he'd disarmed a bomb or something on one of his missions. It was most likely just a rumour started up, just like Dave Moss getting one of his girlfriends pregnant, just a reputation thing.

To: Samuel Vine

From: Nathalia Forissier

Subject: Re: Agents Mix up.

They _always_ seem to do this. That's it. Next time someone does this I'm going down there and busting some knee-caps.

Don't worry, I'll be at the briefing. See you there, Sam.

Nathalia

She mumbled under her breath as she flipped her wrist to check the time.

It was near to one and she was absolutely starving. She scanned the room for maybe a bag of unfinished chips or cookies, but alas found none.

She rolled her eyes and slipped on her trainers, binding them tighter than usual. She grabbed her book quickly, for good measure, in case she got bored during lunch (which was mostly the case). Out the door and down the corridor she went, heading straight for the flight of stairs. She was impatient and hated waiting for the lift to arrive, and plus, she liked the tranquil environment of the seemingly never-ending staircase that echoed every step you took. It made her feel just that tiny more significant sometimes.

Breathing in the tantalizing aroma of savoury food, she couldn't help but salivate as she dreamed of the soon-to-be morsels on her plate and in her mouth.

She bit her lip as her eyes scanned over the selection of food. She could her loud raucous behind her...probably Sam and his crew. Finally, she was able to pick out three large slices of pizza, some steamed vegetables and a bottle of water.

"Naffly!" A loud voice shouted from her left. She turned her head achingly slow and glared at the person who had disrupted her eating time. Her grimace disappeared when she saw who it was, and was replaced with a big grin.

It was Lilah Muller, her closest and dearest friend. She had to take Basic Training twice, and succeeded so with Lilah on the second try. Their friendship had just escalated from that memory and they shared many embarrassing through to serious moments together.

"You idiot," she hissed, "can't you see I'm hungry." Lilah looked at Nathalia's choice of food.

"You're the idiot," she replied. "You're going to get a serious stomach ache--"

Nathalia laughed, then abruptly stopped. "I don't care," she whined. "I'm desperate and hungry, do you even know what those symptoms _do_ to me?"

"Unfortunately yes." She shuddered. "You go crazy."

Nathalia grinned and headed to the table where Lilah and a few others were currently seated at.

She dug into her food as soon as she sat down and the people around her just talked amiably on, because they got used to the fact that Nathalia, when suffering from what she explained as 'starvation', she was very bad-tempered and would bite anything. Lilah learnt it the hard way during Basic Training.

"So Naffly," Tom finally was able to get a word in edge-wise when she stopped eating to come up for air, "what are you doing after lunch?" He grinned, his azure eyes sparkled as his chestnut-brown hair fell over his eyes.

She shrugged, inwardly cursing herself to say something smart in front of him. For you see, our little Nathalia had somewhat of an infatuation with Tom.

But then again, what normal teenage girl wouldn't? He was extremely intelligent, witty and good-looking, and her age. Lilah was always telling her how good a match they would be. But then again, Lilah was always the optimist.

Tom stood up and scooted over next to Nathalia and she couldn't help but blush crimson.

_'Oh gosh,' _she thought, _'what should I say?'_

"Are you free tomorrow afternoon after classes?"

Nathalia faced him and blinked hard. "Come again?"

He grinned sheepishly and repeated, "Are you doing anything tomorrow afternoon after class?"

She shook her head and smiled. "I've got languages last two."

"I know," he replied. "You take: German, French, Russian, Mandarin, Cantonese and Japanese." He smirked a little. "You're quite the linguist."

Again, she shrugged. "Oh well, can't waste talent as they say."

He chuckled and brushed his fingertips across her palm. "Do you want to go out for dinner or something after classes then?"

She tried to keep herself calm, straight-faced and in her seat. Her inner child was screaming in delight and jumping around. It was just so tempting.

Although it was taking her seconds to compute these thoughts, it was taking minutes for her to reply to Tom. He twisted his hands around and a worried look passed his face.

"Naffly?" he choked out.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Of course I will."

He had a huge grin on his face when he suddenly jumped up from his seat and pumped his fist in the air. "Woot!" he cried. _Woot?_ She thought to herself, but dismissed it, she was over the moon too.

It was only when Tom danced out of the cafeteria that Dan spilled out to her that Tom had apparently fancied her for quite some time.

It was at _4:25pm_ when she headed dazedly to the Office room 120, she had the brightest smile playing across her lips.

…

Reece was in his room with the lights turned off, just how he liked it. He was enjoying his hour of peace before he had to go back to lessons. He took the lid from the microwave meal he had taken last night, he couldn't stand the noise and bustle of the canteen. Anyway he thought to him self, I'd only end up sitting on my own again, this is much better. He heard a ping. Turning round he was surprised to see the microwave was still heating up his meal, he was pleasantly surprised when he noticed the computer was flashing, who could possibly be e-mailing me? Slightly bewildered he sat down opposite his laptop.   
After reading the e-mail he replied that he would be going to the meeting. Reece was excited and nervous. he didn't think he would be getting any missions any more not after what happened last time, especially not from Samuel vine who was probably the best known cherub on the whole campus next to Dave Moss! Reece was taking his meal out of the microwave when fear began to manifest itself, "oh god" he thought "I might have to actually talk to some of these people". He wasn't on the best of terms with some of them, to say the least. He tucked into his meal deciding to ignore the dread that was building inside him and concentrate on his history exam next instead.

It was 4:15 pm when Reece decided to make his way over to the office. Better to be early anyway it would make a good impression on the others and hopefully they'd go easier on him.  
Reece reached the office and knocked on the door  
"Come in" said Sam vine the person who had sent him the e-mail "your early?"  
"I decided it would be better to be early" Reece replied  
"Please take a seat. just waiting for the others to arrive now"

…

"Watch where you're going Matt"

Jack Nickleson collided with Matt, both of them ended up sprawled on the floor.

"What do you think you're doing you idiot?"

"Sorry late for a briefing" said Jack panting for breath "I've got so much homework lately I'll do anything to get out of it, even if it's some mundane Security Check."

"Oh, so your on the check too? I wonder who our mission controller will be." replied Matt

"I hope it will be Zara, she has such a sexy body."

"Ech. Thats disgusting, she's like fifty years old. AND married"

"That means she's got experience." said Jack with a grin on his face

Matt grimaced. "That's just wrong, your disgusting" he said, making sure to be a few steps ahead of Jack. They managed to get to the briefing room at exactly 16:30.

"We made it." They said in unison. Matt gave him a look, as though he'd besoiled his words by uttering them at the same time. Then he noticed who else was in the room.

…

Jordan was at the computer when the email about the agent mix-up came in, surfing the net. _Damn it_ he thought. The so called "brain boxes" always managed to screw up somehow. He glanced at his watch, it was only 3:30. He had time to grab a shower, eat something and go down to the briefing.

As he washed, he thought about his life before he came to CHERUB, the fights, the trouble, the police, the Zoe incident. He groaned. That was definitely something he wanted to forget.

As he stepped out the shower, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Stopping to look at himself, he thought he looked a bit weak compared to the likes of Matt Dresden, who was musclebound. He definitely needed to put on muscle and decided to start strength training. As he wandered down towards the main hall, he noticed Nathalia Forissier skipping away from the food hall with a big grin on her face. He kept his head down and carried on walking but she noticed him.  
"Hey Jordan," she said.  
"Hi" he mumbled and pushed past her. He was pretty shy around girls and noticed Nathalia looking at him with a deep-in-thought expression on her face. _Ah, well. Who cares_ he thought, as he reached the briefing room.

…

'Latin? They used _latin_?  
'That's right, and a pretty obscure form of it too, though to have originated on the italian/switzerland border. Once you get past the obscurity of the language the code is really pretty basic.'  
'So what did it say?'  
'I've sent you an email with the full translation and some key translated phrases in case you run into any more firewalls like these.'  
'Thanks Weedy, i'll see you later.'  
'Right. Good luck with the rest of the mission.'

Oedipus put the phone down and removed his glasses, massaging his temples. He could hardly believe it either when the encoded message was sent to him. Apparently a weapons dealer had got smart about protecting his financial irregularities. It had taken a little over two days to get the whole thing done, and he'd just sent it to the senior agent on the mission. He was about to log off from his computer when a small chime indicated he had new mail. Probably someone who needed something else translated. It got tiring after a while.  
Oedipus, or "weedy" as he was more… affectionately (or so he believed) called, clicked on his email account and saw an email from Samuel Vine addressed to several people. Opening it he found the email typically brief:

To: Matthew Dresden, Brendan Maclean, Nathalia Forissier, Jack Smyth, Alice Chambers, Oedipus Rex, John Nickleson, Jordan Peralta, Reece Brownell

From: (Samuel Vine) HisgraceofanhkCherub.MI5.gov.uk/Secure

Subject: Agents Mixup.

Hey guys, It seems that when the brain boxes at the agent were busy picking agents they stuffed up and have allocated too many. I know that for some of you haven't had an active mission for a while, so I'm organising a security check with the Mission controller. He's the new guy, Alex Caplin, be nice. Anyway, basically Alex has given me free run of this little exercise, We'll all be meeting at office room 120 and briefing will go from there. Unfortunately the maximum amount of agents I need (and Alex agrees) is seven and myself. So think of this as a selections process, Those that perform well will be taken on the mission, those that don't will be reassigned to another less important mission to make up a shortfall.

Briefing is at 1630 hours.

It was 12.30, Oedipus had a few hours. He hastily typed an affirmative reply and wondered what he'd do until then. He was about to close his email account when found another new email sent from Alice Chambers.

"Hi Weedy, I've got a Greek essay coming up and I'm having trouble translating the attached passage, do you think you could help me out?  
Alice."

Oedipus gave a groan and slid over to his bookcase on his chair, pulling out a Greek dictionary and getting to work. It looked like he didn't have any free time after all. It always the same, just because he'd been brought up in the stead of the University Master of St.Katherine's college, Oxford (an ex CHERUB himself) people thought that he didn't enjoy non-scholarly pursuits.

As the clock hit quarter past four Oedipus finished off the last email to the last of the backlog of people asking for help that had accumulated since his last mission, and grabbed the walking stick leaning by his door, ready to hobble off to room 120.

He was just outside the door, complete with cane to help steady himself when he saw Nathalie skipping down the corridor towards him. She had been sent the email too, and it looked like she was punctual at least. She waved to him, holding a copy of Nietzsche in one hand. Oedipus groaned as he saw it.  
'Oh hey Weedy, are you here to see Sam too?'

'No, I'm here to pedal drugs to small children. What do you think? Oh and why are you reading Nietzsche. He was pretentious and abnormal, Tolstoy said it himself.'

It was safe to say, Oedipus wasn't a people person.

On the other side of the conversation, Nathalia regarded Oedipus; what an abnormal boy he was. At least he was rather quick-witted. Most people lacked this factor and she found them boring.

Nathalia rolled her eyes and sighed. It seemed as if Weedy was always picking fights. Not physical in the least, more of the testing of intelligence.

"It's my decision what to read, Weedy," she said contemptuously. "And for the record, I knew it was you who lured those innocent children."

Oedipus blinked and then his eyes narrowed into slits and glared menacingly, muttering obscene language under his breath in German.

"We're here!"

They both turned around, Jack and Matt had shown up.

"Late as usual' scoffed weedy.

"You're very entertaining Weedy, bravo," Matt commented his voice filled with contempt

Oedipus groaned inwardly and rolled his eyes. The boy was the most macho, conceited and self abosrbed person Oedipus had ever had the misfortune of working with. He was constantly going on about how he always felt incompetent after being 'unable' to save a non combatant in Iraq. Oedipus couldn't stand this whiny and self pitying cry for attention. It didn't stop him thinking he was God's gift to... well... everything!

'Well, you know me. I aim to please. Don't forget you have remedial German with me next Saturday.'  
Nathalia stifled a giggle while Matt turned tomato red, Oedipus looked as innocent as he could while cleaning his glasses. On balance, there were small ways to bring him down a peg or two.

…

Alice's back hit the mat with a thump. She hated Kartate classes. They always seem to end with her on her back in pain with some beefy twelve year old looking triumphant. The teacher clapped her hands to symbolise the end of the lesson. She staggered to her feet and stumbled to the changing rooms cursing under her breath.

Back up in her room she took a brief shower and as she logged on the computer found, to her surprise, an email about being seleted for a mission. She didn't normally get picked for missions, she didn't enjoy smashing things up like all the other kids on campus, neither did she make friends quickly. This was probably why she had never gone past Grey. She replied quickly saying that she would like to go to this check thing and checked her watch. She didn't have much time but there was another email waiting in the inbox. This was that greek stuff from Oedipus. She didn't really like asking him for help as he generally made you feel stupid when you did. Never the less the translations were there and she really needed them for an essay that was particularly nasty. She thanked him quickly and logged off. She glanced at the clock _Holy cp_ Her watch had obviously been slow as the clock read 4:28 pm.

She darted out the room, heart beating fast. She stumbled down a couple of corridors counting room numbers until she counted 120 on the door. She wheeled round and nearly sent Matt Dresden and Jack Smyth, two older boys she didn't know too well, flying through the air.

"Sorry, Sorry!" she gasped out of breath and turned to the front of the room where, Oedipus and Naffly and Sam Vine the guy who sent the message was standing with an amused smirk on his face..

They sat in an uncomfortable silence before the door opened to admit a few more stragglers.

**Authors note: ** This story is a victim of circumstance, expect updates, but not too often.


End file.
